Captain Awokou stepped into a room filled with laughter. His ready-made apology for being late died quickly on his tongue. His ability to adapt was something he hadn’t lost Banti was glad to realize. The captain’s stomach grumbled as the aroma of the food found his nose.

He headed right into the dining area. His wife was standing opposite their guest. Both were placing dishes onto the table as they finished their laugh. Rozi was dressed in a simple, elegant royal blue dress while their fair-skinned guest still wore his uniform.

“Counselor Antton, dear,” Awokou nodded at both of them. “I’m sorry to interrupt.”

“Oh don’t be silly,” Rozi waved away his apology. “Xars was just helping with programming the dessert, and he was telling me about the first desert he made while a student at the Nausicaan School of Culinary Arts.”

“There’s a Nausicaan cooking school?” Awokou asked, incredulous.

“Oh yes captain,” The Lumerian counselor stood up to his full, imposing height. His thin frame and the twinkle in his brown eyes made him seem less imposing. The marking on his forehead wrinkled slightly after his expression and voice took on a serious cast. “The Nausicaans take great pride in their cuisine and especially their desserts. I can also tell you that failure was not an option.”

“I can only imagine,” Awokou chuckled, “So what was your first dessert?”

“Bloodfruit cake,” Antton looked wistful.

“I take it that since you’re here recounting the story with my wife that it met with approval?” The captain asked.

“Actually the chef hated it,” the Lumerian shrugged.

“Well it is fruit cake after all,” Awokou laughed again and Rozi joined in. Antton looked at both of them, a perplexed look on his face.

“It’s an Old Earth thing,” Rozi explained, “There is an Earth dessert also called fruit cake, which it appeared no one liked.”

“At least according to Old Earth television,” Awokou added.

“Television?” The counselor inquired.

“Ah, let’s save that for the meal,” the captain advised. “And what are we having today?” He asked, as his eyes roved the table. The counselor stood at attention and nodded respectfully in Rozi’s direction before gesturing grandly at the repast. His wife chuckled again.

“I thought it would be fitting to introduce you to the Delta Quadrant before we get there, with a sampling of several dishes,” Rozi smiled.

“I knew you had been dying to try out some of the recipes Voyager sent back,” Banti grinned. Courtesy of Project Pathfinder, the stranded Starship Voyager had sent a lot of information about the Delta Quadrant, including data about its flora, fauna, and foodstuffs.

“To the best of my ability I was able to program the replicator to reproduce Leola rice pilaf, Gabosti stew, Talaxian bread, and for dessert, Jimbalian fudge cake with L’maki nut frosting.”

Plagued with a sweet tooth, Awokou’s eyes went directly to the purplish round cake.

“I had some trouble with programming the L’maki nut, and that’s when our gracious counselor chivalrously offered his assistance.”

Antton bowed. “It was all in the furtherance of greater galactic understanding.” All three laughed.

Once they had settled down, Banti clapped his hands. He was ready to eat, but he was also ready to talk, to relax, and with his wife and the irrepressible counselor as his dinner companions he knew that both were going to be as plentiful as the helpings.
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